


Inkstuck

by cynical_luminary



Category: Homestuck, Tintenwelt-Trilogie | Inkheart Trilogy - Cornelia Funke
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:38:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynical_luminary/pseuds/cynical_luminary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Inkheart, by Cornelia Funke.<br/>I searched around a bit and didn't find any signs that this crossover had ever been done, so I decided I really wanted to try it. I don't know how far I'll take this. However, the more support I receive the more I will try to write. Any suggestions on which characters to use would be GREATLY APPRECIATED!! (i.e. Basta, Darius, Farid, etc.) I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inkstuck

There was a cold, whispering rain that evening. The night was late and the half moon was high in the sky. John was still lying awake in bed, listening to the patter of raindrops on his window. He could feel the firmness of the book he had been reading, nestled beneath his pillow. He’d put it away a little while ago to try and rest, but it was useless. The words from the story were fresh in his mind and he was itching to know what would happen in the next few pages, the next few chapters. John had inherited his love of books from his father, Daniel. He sat up and pulled the old paperback out from under his pillow, then reached over for the little matchbox in his bedside drawer.  
His father hated matches because a fire could quickly get out of hand—and well, their house certainly wasn’t the best thing to be lighting aflame. It was full of old books. The thing would go up in a matter of minutes. But John was nearly thirteen, and surely he could take care of a few candles responsibly. He flicked a match across the strikepad with a crackle and the tip was aglow in a little flame. Just when he was about to light his first candle, the floorboards creaked. John cringed and blew it out, then listened. Was his father still awake? He tiptoed across the room to listen at the door.  


Nothing.  


John moved to the opposite side of the room and peered out the window. With a perfectly-timed flash of lightning, he saw him. A tall, pale young man, standing in their front yard. His heart felt like it seized up in his chest and his breathing stopped as he stared at the figure. John gazed at him, out in the rain and gloom. His clothes were soaked through and dripping wet, and pale blonde hair was flattened on his head from the drizzle. He’d obviously been out in the weather for a long time. His head turned and John could have sworn their eyes met. He jumped in fright and turned on his heel to bolt out of his room.  


I need to tell Dad, thought John. He hurried down the hall and paused at the door to his father’s workroom. The light was on. He was still awake, working on his books. John’s father was a bookbinder, who fixed up old books for a living. He opened the door with a worried frown to find his father reading a book, rather than working on one. It was bound in light blue. Funny, the little details one can remember that seem insignificant.  


“Dad, there’s someone out in the yard,” he blurted in dismay. Daniel looked up from the book and frowned a little, not focusing on the interruption at first. It always took him a few moments to leave the story behind and return to reality.  


“There’s some guy standing in the front yard.” Daniel closed his book and got up.  


“John, have you been reading horror novels before bed again?” He asked as he took his reading glasses off and set them on his cluttered workbench.  


“I have not! I’m really serious, Dad, please come look.” He grabbed onto his father’s hand when he came over and started dragging him towards his bedroom. John nearly tripped on one of the piles of books sitting in the hall. There were stacks of the old tomes all over the house. In the halls, in the kitchen, in the corners of every room. Their home was overflowing with books.  


“Does he have a hairy face, like a wolf man? Or has he got a hunchback?” Daniel teased John a bit when they entered the boy’s bedroom.  


“Dad, just shut up and look!” John hissed a little more quietly, almost fearing that the stranger would hear them. It was a silly fear, though. They were on the second floor, the window was shut tight, and the rain was a constant hum covering all of the small noises of the night. Daniel moved up to the window with his usual incredulous smile. When a flash of lightning revealed the solitary figure on the lawn the smile vanished and he seemed to grow a bit pale. “Dad, is he going to break in? You promised no one would ever break in because we have nothing valuable enough to steal!” John whispered. Daniel backed away from the window and shook his head.  


“He’s not a robber, John. He’s a visitor. Here to see me,” Daniel said quietly. “Go to bed and stay there.” His words were a bit more stern and sharp than usual. John meekly crawled onto his bed and watched him leave the room. One, two, three, four, five… John silently counted to ten, then got up and tiptoed after him. Through the hall, down the spiral staircase, and into the front of the house.  


Daniel was standing in the open doorway, stray raindrops blowing into the front hall.  


“Strider!” He called into the darkness, squinting past the rain. “Is that you?”  


Strider? What a weird name. John wondered what kind of last name that was. There wasn’t a sound from the front yard except for the drumming of the rain and a distant rumble of thunder. Then, John heard the crunch of gravel beneath the stranger’s boots as he approached. The man emerged from the shadows, soaked to the bone. The dark jacket and pants he was wearing were sopping wet, and his combat-style boots squelched when he stepped. John thought he saw a little white hand on his shoulder, but he blinked and it was gone. Strider wiped his hair out of his eyes and held his hand out to Daniel. A pair of triangular shades was grasped in his other hand.  


“Silvertongue. It’s been a long time,” He said sort of warmly.  


Daniel took his hand and gave it a shake, then stepped aside to let him in. “It has been… Come in, it’s freezing out there.” He murmured as Strider entered and tracked plenty of water into the hall.  


“Oh, he’s grown.” Strider remarked with a knowing smile when he saw John standing at the foot of the stairs, watching them. Daniel turned to look at his son as he shut and locked the door.  


“You remember him?”  


“Absolutely.” Strider took off his old, worn backpack and dropped it with a thump to take off his coat. He was wearing a tight white v-neck under it. He watched John as he hung his coat up, his gaze sweeping over every inch of him. “How old is he?”  


“Twelve, now…” Daniel went into the kitchen and flicked the lights on to start making tea. Strider lingered in the hall, looking at John. John just stared back at him.  
Strider had light blonde hair and a somewhat stubbly chin from skipping out on shaving. His light face had some freckles, which made him look a bit more youthful than he probably was. John also noted three long, pale scars on the man’s face.  


“Twelve,” He repeated and took a few steps towards the kitchen. “Let’s see, he was three when it happened, wasn’t he?” He called to Daniel.  


“Yes. Three years old.” Daniel frowned a bit. “Come with me… I’ll get you some dry clothes.” He went past John to lead Strider down the hall. “John, go to bed,” He snapped a little before leading Strider into his bedroom.  


John was a little taken aback. Daniel never used such a stern tone with him. He was afraid of this strange man. He didn’t trust him one bit, and he could feel a lump in his throat that was making it hard to swallow. John accidentally started to notice his breathing and he stood there in silence. Breathing in. Breathing out. Breathing in. Breathing out. The bedroom door creaked as it opened again and John jumped, looking up to see his father emerge. He sighed and shut the door. “Still awake,” He shook his head a bit and came up to rest a hand on his shoulder. “John… Please go back to bed.” He said quietly.  


“But Dad,”  


“No buts. Please. I’ll give you some tea, then please go,” He murmured and went back into the kitchen to check on the water and pull out two packets of tea. John followed him and waited in the doorway, his heart feeling heavy.  


“Dad, promise he’ll be gone in the morning?” He asked when he was handed his cup of tea.  


“I promise,” Daniel kissed his forehead. “Good night.”  


“Night,” John turned and slowly went up the stairs. When he reached the top floor he moved down the hall a bit to pause and gaze at the door to Daniel’s workshop. There was an old, faded sign on the door. It had been there as long as John remembered, and it read:

> _Some books should be tasted_  
>  _Some devoured,_  
>  _But only a few_  
>  _Should be chewed and digested thoroughly._

John sighed and traced a few of the swirly letters, remembering when he was too short to read it like this. He would pile books up and stand on them to read it. Back then, he used to think the phrase was literal, and he was appalled that anyone would eat a book. While he gazed at the sign, he overheard Strider and Daniel talking not-so-quietly downstairs.  


“He will do _anything_ to get it, do you understand?” Strider asked a bit sharply. “I mean anything.”  


“I won’t let him have it,” Daniel replied, his voice firm and steady.  


“Exactly. Because you’re going to read me back then get rid of the damn thing.”  


“Absolutely not. Do you have any idea what could happen?? I don’t want to know what it might take or give!”  


“It won’t take John, just fucking do it!”  


“You don’t know what it will or won’t do, Strider.” Daniel snapped. “Neither do I.”  


“They’ll find you eventually. Moving around forever isn’t going to cut it. Do you think John actually enjoys jumping from place to place? You’re fucking ridiculous.”  


“Watch your language,” Daniel said more quietly. Neither of them spoke for some time. John was tense as he listened, staring at his cup of tea. Finally, Daniel broke the silence. “What should I do?”  


“I can take you to him. Capricorn would be grateful—hell, probably kind to you for bringing it to you of your own free will. The guy he got to replace you is mediocre at best.” Capricorn? What kind of name was that? It was even weirder than Strider.  


“And if I don’t go?”  


“He’ll get you. _Soon._ ”  


His words cut through Daniel’s last shreds of hope and the house was silent. John realized it was so quiet because the rain had stopped. The silence was eerie.  


Daniel sighed tiredly. “Let me think about this. You can stay in the spare room for the night.” He murmured. The important parts of their conversation seemed to have ended, so John quickly went to his room. The spare bedroom was down the hall from his, and Dad would surely check on him to be sure he had gone to bed. He gulped down half of his now room temperature tea, then pulled the blankets up and closed his eyes. He heard the stairs creak under their feet when they came up. They both passed his room and he heard Strider lay down and get settled in the room by his. A moment or two passed, then his own bedroom door creaked open a little. John held still, focusing on breathing slowly.  


Daniel watched his son from the doorway with a tired frown, then sighed and pulled the door shut once more. He went down to his own room to try to get some rest, though he was sure it was no use. He had too much to think about now, and too many worries to address.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been and will be looking at my Inkheart novel while I write this, so some passages will parallel the book quite a bit. Others won't, though, because I'm paraphrasing and twisting things to fit what I have in mind a bit more. Some future chapters might not have an existing parallel in the novel at all, and I hope that's okay with you all.
> 
> P.S. My tumblr is therealhorusszahhak if you want to follow me or send me ideas!


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